Neville Saves the Days
by Steve2
Summary: Neville travels to the past in order to save the Life, Universe, and Every… oh, wait. Wrong story. Ahem. Neville travels to the past in order to save the present… er… the future. Or perhaps just get laid. Rated M for language. Crack-fic
1. Chapter 1: Introducing… Neville Wharami!

Neville Saves the Days

 **By Steve2**

Introduction:

 **Initial summary for this story** : Neville travels to the past in order to save the Life, Universe, and Every… oh, wait. Wrong story. Ahem. Neville travels to the past in order to save the present… er… the future. Or perhaps just get laid.

 **Alternate summary for this story:** Neville was a driven man. He knew of days where things needed to happen. He remembered days where things had happened. He suspected he had a destiny in days undone. But c'mon – where the heck was that bloody Time Turner!

 **Origin of this story** : Rorschach's Blot has many stories, of which this story is not based on one of them. Surprise, eh? However, his Yahoo group site has many conversation threads. One such set of threads comprises a list of story ideas Rorschach jots down from time to time. Sometimes the story idea is for Harry Potter, other times for a different story entirely like Scooby-Doo or Naruto. At the time this introduction was written, there were just over 700 ideas. I began reading these ideas, chuckling at some. One of those ideas clicked in my head and I thought to write a story about it. As I kept reading these ideas, another one clicked. Then another. Soon it was an avalanche of ideas. I knew I could have created one story after another with these ideas, but then my evil mind (which I call Bob and keep in a jar on my nightstand) began working them together and I decided to incorporate them into one massive story.

How to do it, how… I thought. Bob wasn't answering – no matter how many electrical shocks I gave it. I knew I wanted to do one massive story, but some of these ideas were not linear. However, it suddenly hit me. Neville. He was the catalyst. Once I had that in mind, idea after idea began to gel into place.

This story now has many of those ideas in here. I will identify each idea at the conclusion of the chapter it is in.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the Harry Potter series. This is purely for fun. Also, I own nothing. No money is being made from this.

 **0-0-0**

Chapter 1: Introducing… Neville Wharami!

 _ **Downstream 1976**_

On a Saturday morning, one day in mid-November in 1976, James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus pursued one of their favorite hobbies while at Hogwarts: exploring. To be fair, the term "exploring" held many connotations with this group of friends. Some of the options included: exploring the depths of the kitchen, exploring different ways to get others to do your homework, and one of the best they did continual improvement on: explore how to get others blamed for the mischief the Marauders came up with.

Oh yes, they enjoyed exploring. But none of those were what they were currently engaged in. In fact, the group, as a whole, was not even all that engaged in what was going on.

"C'mon guys," Peter whined, clearly unhappy with the fact that Remus, Sirius, and James were checking out every classroom in this deserted part of the castle. It wasn't as if they simply opened a door, took a glance around the room, and then left. Oh no, Peter mentally berated his friends. They had to actually go into the room and explore all the shelves, cabinets, and anything else they could find.

"You know," James said over his shoulder to an irritated Peter, "this would go a lot faster if you actually helped us."

"Why bother? All we ever find is junk. You said we were going exploring for treasure. You know, finding a new way to get into the girl's showers."

"No," Sirius corrected. "We said treasure and we meant treasure. I mean, we've already found three…"

"Four," Remus absently corrected as he pulled books off the shelf to look for any sort of hidden latch.

"Right. Four cursed quills."

"But that's all junk!" Peter mentally implored his friends to give up this quest to find useless junk and instead work on finding a way to girl's showers. Any of the girl's showers. He didn't care. He'd never had a girlfriend. He'd give anything to simply get laid.

"True," Remus agreed that they had only found junk of a sort so far. "James! Here! Look at this!"

James and Sirius converged on Remus and saw the askew book on the too-narrow ledge.

Peter also saw it. "It's a book. Someone just put it down like a hundred years ago and forgot it."

"That's what whoever put it here wanted us to think. But look at the title!"

"Hogwarts a History. So?"

Remus looked at his fellow dorm-mate. The jerk was really getting on his nerves. "Read the rest of it."

"The definitive 23rd edition."

"Right! You know what this is, right?! It's a clue!"

"What the hell are you talking about, you turkey?"

"Peter, the current Hogwarts History version is only the 23rd edition. This book shouldn't have existed when it was put down here and covered with dust. It's a fake. Therefore, it's a _clue_ ," Remus pointed out to Peter, who only looked more constipated.

"You're right!" Sirius beamed. "It's a clue. Maybe it'll take us to a bag of holding, or an enchanted arrow that always returns."

"Whatever," Peter snarked, thinking of how he could ditch these guys and find a true treasure: the floo address for Trista Johanson, a Hufflepuff with a couple decent hufflepuffies.

A loud sound emanated from a corridor they were in about an hour ago.

"Did any of you hear that?" Peter inquired.

"Yeah. It sounded like kerupfle," Remus pondered.

"No, it was more a glumba," James suggested.

"Could it have been a loud splat?" Sirius thought aloud.

"Guys! It was a _noise_. You were touching that book. Maybe it's a clue!" Peter pressed. He would say anything to get them out of that bloody classroom. Hopefully it was just the wind, and maybe, just maybe, they'd go back to the real treasure hunting.

"Yeah!" James grinned. "It was a clue. Let's go!"

The four ran out of the room, searching for the source of the sound. It wasn't hard to find. A few minutes later they found a fellow 6th year. One they didn't recognize.

"Hey," Sirius greeted.

"Sirius Black, right?" the young man said, a wild gleam in his eyes as if seeing something for the first time.

"Yeah. Who're you? And why are you wearing a Gryffindor patch on your… uh… robes?"

"Better question," James said. "What the hell happened to your robes? They look horrible."

"Thanks," the teenager grinned. "I can live with horrible. Non-existent would have been worse. You guys lost too?"

"No," Remus said. "We know where we are."

"You do? Thank god! You can take me back to the common room?"

"Who are you?" Peter reiterated.

"I'm Neville. Neville Wharami. And am I glad to see you guys again."

"Again?" Peter said. "I don't remember meeting you."

"What?! We were sorted together on September 1st, 1971. The five of us were in the same dorm. Haven't you guys ever wondered about the 5th bed in the dorm? Or wondered where I've been?"

"Uh," Remus theorized. "I guess I always thought all dorm rooms had an extra bed?"

"You guys shitting me? You forgot me?! You bastards! I got up early the 2nd of September in 1971 to go exploring and got lost. I've been lost for five freaking years. I've had to scrounge for food and live off the land – well, more like live off what I find in a classroom. Thanks a fucking lot for thinking about me. Or searching for me for that matter."

"Um," James shared a glance with Sirius.

"You want lunch?" Sirius suggested.

 **0-0-0**

Roughly 20 minutes later, the five teenagers were in the Great Hall where Neville was eating lunch with gusto. The four friends shared a concerned look with one another and then look back at the missing 6th year Gryffindor. How had they forgotten him? A fellow Gryffindor of all things.

Curious glances were thrown to the newcomer. Who was that boy? How did he end up at that table? What was the best way to rid the world of that deplorable James Potter? Wait… that was Snape. He didn't count.

"James," Lily quirked an eyebrow to the new kid. "Who's this?"

"Lily," Sirius said with shocked indignation. "Surely you remember Neville Wharami? He was sorted into our year."

"What?" Lily immediately ran all the faces and names through her memory to find a Neville Wharami.

"Who is this, Mr. Potter, and why did you bring a stranger into the school?" said the voice of a strict McGonagall as she sternly strode to the table.

Neville looked around for a stranger. Not finding one, he swallowed the rest of the roll he had in his mouth, then at the teacher hovering over him. "Stranger? Where?" he started, then stopped with understanding. "Oh, you mean me? No worries. I'm a student here!"

Minerva scowled and replied, "I find that hard to believe."

"But I was! I was sorted into Gryffindor. Along with these guys. Don't you remember me?"

Minerva did not buy it. "Alright you lot, who is this student?"

"I'm Neville Wharami. I remember being sorted into Gryffindor, going to our room in the Gryffindor tower, stepping through the painting and all that, and the next day I decided to go exploring. I've been missing ever since. Don't any of you remember me?"

"You mean to tell me, you've been missing for five years?"

"Five years and two and a half months actually. This is the middle of my sixth year. Why didn't you ever come look for me?"

"Why didn't you ever call for a house elf or ask a ghost for assistance if you were missing for so long?"

"I did!" Neville stated forcefully. "I asked for house elves to help me and they brought me food. At least I think it was them. I mean I never saw them or anything. I did manage to find classrooms to sleep in, and read what was on the boards and in the books."

"They brought you food? That's all they did?" Minerva arched an eyebrow.

Neville nodded. "That's my story."

"And did they bring you anything to drink?" She had to get to the root of this tomfoolery.

Neville thought for a moment, scratching his chin. "Come to think of it, no they didn't."

She had him now and said, "The human body must have water to survive, Mr. Wharami. How, then, did you manage to survive for five and a half years without water?"

"It was Peeves. He kept bringing me water. He is the reason I am alive today."

Professor McGonagall scoffed. "I find that hard to believe. Peeves? Helping anyone?"

Peeves shot into the Great Hall at that moment and pelted the poor missing Gryffindor with a few water balloons. "Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah!" Peeves chortled. "Take that, Nevvie!"

Neville, dripping wet, took the moment to wring out his clothes into a nearby goblet, as if saving his water for later. "See? That's how he brought me water."

Minerva was horrified that this poor boy's story could be true. She looked to the ceiling. "Peeves! Did you ensure this student stayed lost for five and a half years?!"

Peeves blew her a raspberry. "Hahahahaha! You can't prove it! Pastries in room 206!"

"We better get to room 206 before whatever invisible force is in this castle removes those pastries. I've learned through bitter experience not to ignore his suggestions of where to find food."

"Invisible force?" James questioned aloud.

Neville nodded. "Yeah. Something is always coming along and removing food and cleaning classrooms and putting a bed out for me to sleep in. That helped, I tell you."

"Then why didn't you ask that invisible force for new clothes instead of wearing… those? They look like what someone would wear as a first year," Sirius pointed out.

Neville stared at Sirius as if he were dumb. "They _**are**_ what I wore as a first year, dummy. I've been repairing them for years. Anyway, I need to contact my parents. What did they say when you lost me?"

"Young man, I certainly never lost you," Minerva said with a little less conviction than before.

"I've been missing for over five years! I'm sure my parents paid for an education for their son, one that included going to classes, sleeping securely in a dorm, eating regular meals, and _coming home_ during the summer. Instead, due to your inaction as the head of my house, and the lack of thinking from the prefects in the house, I've had to teach myself everything I know! I've had to eat what I could scrounge. Not to mention lick water off the damn floor! And I haven't gone home during the summer, nor seen my family for years! So, what are you going to do about it?" Neville crossed his arms, an angry scowl visible.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "I'm not sure what I can do about it, Mr. Wharami. As I said, I don't recognize you."

"How can you not recognize me?! I'm a pureblood. I think. Don't you recognize my family name?"

"Wharami? No, that is not one I recognize."

"Maybe he's from the mainland," suggested a third-year Gryffindor with a shrug to his friends at the table that indicated, 'Hey, it could happen.'

"I guess that is possible," Minerva theorized slowly.

"Wait!" Lily thought things through.

"Yes, Miss Evans?" Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"I think we are pronouncing his name wrong. It's not War-hami. I think it is really Where-am-I. Neville, what do you parents look like?"

"Uh, there's a father that looks like me. And a mother that looks like me. And, uh, a dog?"

"Professor, I don't think Neville remembers his past since he's been lost for five years, and alone all that time," Lily informed her head of house. "He likely doesn't remember his last name."

"Hmmm, you may be right, Miss Evans." She directed her attention to Neville. "Young man, eat, retire to the Gryffindor dorm, rest, and tomorrow I will have you meet our medi-witch when she returns from a consultation. Other than that, I'm not sure what else I can do."

Neville's arms flew up. "You don't know what else you can do? **You** _ **don't**_ **know?!** I'll tell you what will happen! There are two choices as I see it. One, when I remember my name, I'll call my parents or whoever is in charge and let them know what happened. I will then ask they do their upmost to take legal action against this school, entangling all monies in the school coffers up in legal actions for years. This should ensure none of your teachers get paid during that time. Or two, you get me a replacement wardrobe, find me a trunk, and get me back into the school routine. That way, you may be able to mitigate _some_ of the damage the eventual lawsuit will bring. And maybe stay open."

Minerva knew both choices were bad, but further inaction was worse. "Very well, Mr. Wharami. I will see to it you are active on the school rosters again and look into why you were lost for so long. I will also check to see if there is some recompense for you." Plus, she thought, she would let the Headmaster work this out; after all, that was what the bloody git was there for.

Neville crossed his arms again. "Sounds good as a start. Now we all need to get to room 206 before those pastries are gone."

"Um, Neville," Remus said. "We can escort you to the kitchen where house elves will get you anything you want anytime."

"You can? I've been looking for that for years! Let's go!"

 **0-0-0**

 **Author's Notes:**

This is the start of a story that will take place both Upstream and Downstream.

 **This chapter based off the following:**

 _Original Rorschach's Blot Idea #397_. Exploration of Hogwarts and all sorts of crazy rooms or items. If you want your character to have a cool magical item, why not try this rather than a shopping trip? I don't mean writing a dozen pages about all the cool magical items you've thought up, this is fun for the writer, less so for the reader. 

_Original Rorschach's Blot Idea #135_. First year students occasionally get lost in the halls of Hogwarts, sometimes very lost, but they're usually found within a year or five.


	2. Chapter 2: Neville comes clean

Chapter 2: Neville comes clean

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the Harry Potter series. This is purely for fun. Also, I own nothing. No money is being made from this.

 **0-0-0**

 _ **Downstream 1976**_

After lunch, Neville was escorted back to the Gryffindor common room where he had a warm, if small, reception from the students. He was welcomed back and asked if there was anything they could do for him.

"I could use a shower and some clothes that fit," Neville said with a little hope in his voice.

"I'll get you some clothes until the professors come through," James said.

"Thanks," Neville replied as he was then escorted to the 6th year boy's dorm, and shown the shower room.

A half hour later, Neville was clean, wearing something a little snug in the wrong areas, and back in the common room, looking for his dorm mates. He saw three of them in a corner discussing something.

"Guys," Neville said, walking up to the group, "where's Peter?"

"Ah, he's walking Connie Curmudgeon around the castle in a vain attempt to schmooze her into releasing her floo number."

"Good enough," Neville said. "Can I speak with you guys, and Lily Evans for a few minutes? Alone?"

"Where?"

"Dorm room."

"Can do," James said, anticipating that Neville needed some friends around to adjust some more after being alone for so long.

Minutes later, Remus, James, Sirius, and Lily were in the 6th Year Boys Dorm. Lily only agreed to go since the new boy, Neville, story had sounded fishy and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

Neville began casting. "I apologize for not mentioning this earlier, but I needed you guys to confirm my cover," Neville said once the security wards were up, and any peeping-portraits or posters obscured.

"What are you talking about?" James said immediately.

"Ah-hah! I knew it! You're not a student here, are you?" Lily pounced, pointing her finger accusingly at Neville while beaming that she was right all along.

"Not quite right, Miss Evans," Neville said, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. "I am a student here, or rather, will be a student here. In about 15 years."

"Wait… what?" she said succinctly, now off balance.

"A Time Turner can't take you back in time that far," Remus said, trying to find any hole in this story.

"True. It can't. But the Veil can. If you know how to do it right."

"And you know how to use it?" Remus said.

"No. But my uncle does, or will learn how. I'm kind of iffy on that."

"Why are you here?" Sirius jumped in with, to him, was the most important question.

"I'm on a quest," Neville began.

"Blue!" Sirius said loudly.

"What?" Neville was now off balance.

"My name is Sirius Black, I'm on a quest to find the Grail, and my favorite color is blue!"

"Sirius…" Remus face palmed. "This isn't a movie."

"Pardon my friend here," James pointed to Sirius with his thumb. "He uses comedy as a relief mechanism when he gets stressed. Fortunately, his name isn't Tim."

"No worries," Neville grinned. "It's not the first time he's done that as I recall."

"How can you be from 15 years in the future?" Lily refused to let that go.

"Oh, I'm not."

"Ah-hah! I knew it! You were lying about the time travel."

"Oh, no. That was true. I'm just not from 15 years in the future. I'm from 22 years in the future."

"Wait… what?"

"I think you broke her," Sirius said with a little concern as he waved his hand in front of her face.

"Wow. I was expecting not to break her until I at least told you why I came back in time."

"Why did you come back?" James distractedly inquired, as he too waved his hand in front of Lily Evans.

"I need to pass on some warnings and tell you about your son, Harry Potter."

"WHAT?!" Remus, James, and Sirius all exclaimed at the same time, focusing their gaze on Neville.

"What-what?" Neville grinned at them.

"Someone mated with this moron?" Lily's eyes unglazed as her thoughts took on a new spin.

"Why, yes, someone did. Mating _**is**_ how a child is conceived." Neville loved riling up Harry's parents.

"Who would be stupid enough to… oh, no. No! No, no, no, positively no!" Lily shouted.

"You mean Lily and me…" James trailed off.

"Hell no!" Lily stared at James.

"You two aren't dating yet, are you?" Neville asked.

"What gave you that idea?" Sirius said.

"The fact that she wants to knee him in the groin for one," Neville replied candidly.

"That's nothing new you know," Remus pointed out.

"True that," Sirius agreed.

"Look," Neville got their attention again. "I don't know how long I will remain here. I have no control over it. A few days at the very least. Maybe a few months at the best. I need to pass on warnings, advice, and information to all of you before I go."

"We should get Peter," James said, thinking about the 4th member of their goon squad.

"This information is not for Peter's ears, eyes, or nose," Neville admonished. "I will kill him if I hear that he has found anything out about it."

"That's kind of harsh, don't you think?" Lily said, crossing her arms.

"I mean what I say, and will be happy to tell you all about it while I am here. I will not tell you everything right now as there is a lot to cover and I don't think you are accepting of what I have to say now anyway. Take your time to think over what I've said so far and if you want me to tell you everything, then just ask. But no Peter. It's important."

Lily began rubbing her temples while James gazed at her longingly.

"Give us one thing that confirms you are from the future," Remus said.

"I'll give you two. First, Harry James Potter is my best friend, born in 1980, his parents and James and Lily Potter, his godfather is Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin is his furry godfather as well. And second, the Cannons will not win anything up to and including the year that I left in."

"That first one is hard to prove. And the second one is a no-brainer," Sirius pointed out. "They suck."

"True. Okay. Another thing: your cousin, Andromeda Black marries, or maybe already married Ted Tonks. They have or will have a daughter. She is a metamorph."

"Okay," Sirius agreed, his eyes wide, " _that_ I didn't know."

"It's a lot to take in. Talk about it. I'll be downstairs."

"Wait," Lily stopped him starting to take down the wards. "If you have come back in time, and you tell us what will happen in the future, shouldn't we be worried about paradoxes?"

"I agree that traveling in time is dangerous," Neville said. "But to be fair, what paradoxes? We no need no stinking paradoxes. Hah, sorry, that was funny when Harry and I said it upstream. Anyway, there's nothing to fear. Nothing's happened so far."

Wards down, Neville left.

 **0-0-0**

 _ **Upstream 1980**_

On July 31, 1980, contrary to what many medi-witches thought (and as far as they knew, they knew everything, so everyone should just shut the hell up and listen to them), James was in the delivery room with his wife instead of out in the waiting room smoking a good strong cigar with the other expectant fathers.

"You're doing great, Lily!" James shouted, not really sure if he was ready to see and understand what a man was not meant to know.

"Shut up, James!" Lily shot back through clenched teeth.

The conversation continued on like that for another few hours until at long last, baby Harry met his mother and father.

"It's a boy!" James cried cheerfully, a few manly tears running down his face. He took a second look. "And what a boy if this is any indicator!" he pointed to an area far below baby Harry's chest.

"James, that's the umbilical cord," Lily sighed from her bed.

"No. It isn't," he replied with a wild gleam. He had to let the others know. This was too important not to tell his mates, his amigos, his buds, his pals. Especially when they would be green with envy. He was the man! And it didn't even take smoking one of those special cigarettes Lily's cousin scored now and then.

An idea formed in his head. He needed to talk to Sirius.

 **0-0-0**

 _ **Upstream 1981**_

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Lily asked for what had to be the 100th time… that day.

"Of course it is, Lily," James assured her yet again. "I told you, this ceremony is hundreds of years old, perfectly safe, and will help Harry for the rest of his life."

"Yes, I get that, but why are we doing this on the back patio here? We need to get the Godric's Hollow cottage ready."

"We will. I agreed to your idea. But Harry needs this ceremony. It is a moral imperative."

"That's the second time you've used that word," Sirius said to his best friend. "I don't think you know what it means."

"Inconceivable," James said distractedly as he sat his young son on a raised dais in the Potter Manor's Ritual Room.

Young Harry promptly pooped.

"Aww, man!" Sirius held his nose and looked longingly at Peter.

"Fine," Peter groused, putting on a surgical mask, rubber gloves, and safety glasses made impervious to hot yellow streams (a necessity he had found out the hard way). He grabbed a fresh diaper out of the bottomless diaper pouch and proceeded to change Harry's soggy and stinky cloth diaper.

"Great," Peter muttered darkly. "It's green poo again. At least Harry's on this pedestal and I don't have to change him on the floor."

Minutes later, Harry was cleaned and put into a new diaper. The old diaper went into the really-deep (not bottomless) diaper discard pouch that would eventually be emptied by one of the Potter house elves. Well, Peter thought he put the soggy and stinky green-poo diaper into the discard pouch. As the ritual resumed, Peter was asked for a quill for some notes. He reached into his ever-present school bag of really neat and pretty cool things, and came out with a soggy and stinky green-poo diaper which had come open.

"Aww man!" Sirius said again, pointing to the door. Peter left to clean his hand, arm, school bag, and get rid of that diaper.

An hour later the ritual was complete, the young family plus friends back upstairs in the kitchen, sitting around the table. Harry was happy, restless, and completely unaware of the blood adoption ritual that had just occurred.

The floo sparked and out stepped Lily's former head of house, Minerva.

The two women spoke for a few minutes, then Lily and James left to continue packing. In the meantime, Minerva's stern gaze landed on Sirius Black. Her lips tense, her eyebrows closer together. He knew the signs. He stepped outside to the back patio and she followed.

"All right, Mr. Black," Minerva began. "What have you done this time?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, Minnie," he replied.

"I've seen that face before. Now talk. And do not call me that again," Minerva warned.

Response gotten, Sirius explained. "James and Lily allowed a few miscreants, such as myself, to allow our blood to mingle with Harry's in a ritual to blood adopt him into our families and us into his."

"A blood ritual?" Minerva's eyes shot open? "On a toddler?"

"Of course," Sirius schmoozed. "They have no preconceived notions that something shouldn't happen. And by doing it at this age, it allows our magic to assist his health as he grows."

"And where did this blood adoption ritual originate from, Mr. Black?"

"I would have to acknowledge that it was an old Black family magical ritual."

"Am I to understand you have just imbued young Harry with the worst traits of the Black family in this little stunt of yours? Keep in mind, I do know how rituals work."

"Of course not, Professor. You wound me," Sirius put his hand over his heart. "The Black family ritual does allow for selective trait and selective blood infusion."

"If that's the case," Minerva wondered aloud. "Then why is Mrs. Lestrange…"

"Don't go there," Sirius interrupted her. "Let's just say this ritual hasn't been used in centuries due to some rather serious mental issues with the previous heads of the Black family."

"Very well. So what benefits will young Mr. Potter receive as he grows up?"

"Well, from me he will get an effortless way to speak with the ladies, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, Mr. Black, I am aware of what you mean," Minerva put a hand to her forehead and shook it. "What about Mr. Pettigrew?"

"Peter? Um, nothing. I sort of dumped his blood for the ritual down the loo."

"May I ask why?" Minerva pursed her lips.

"Well, think about it. Who wants his benefits? He's lousy with the ladies. He smells, looks funny, and is clumsy. So I dumped his out."

"Did you do that with any others? Mr. Lupin for example?"

"Who? Remus? Absolutely not. His blood stayed in the ritual. I have it on good authority that the werewolf blood will give him god-like stamina, if you know what I mean," Sirius winked. "You know, in the bedroom… with witches… wink, wink…" No response. "You know, I'm talking about sex."

"Yes, Mr. Black, that's quite apparent," Minerva sighed. "What else will Harry be getting?"

"Well, there's a hint of veela blood in that ritual from Monique who I met in the French Riviera last month. I have reliable intelligence that a little taste of veela will make him irresistible."

Minerva looked at Sirius' expression. "There's more to this isn't there?"

"Absolutely! I managed to convince a phoenix…" Sirius began what would be another 20 minutes of bloods given and the benefits of each drop. Minerva didn't know whether to approve or cry.

She settled for both.

 **0-0-0**

 **Author's Notes:**

For those readers who thought reading scenes in both uptime and downtime was a little confusing, just keep in mind that this type of layout is not likely to change anytime soon.

 **This chapter based off the following:**

 _Original Rorschach's Blot Idea #660._ "It's a boy!" James said cheerfully. "And what a boy!"  
"James, that's the umbilical cord," Lily sighed.  
"No. It isn't."

 _Original Rorschach's Blot Idea #509._ The Marauders decide to do some sort of blood adoption ritual with baby Harry. For whatever reason, Sirius switches out Peter's and/or Remus' portion of blood or whatever with another of his own. Just an excuse to write young drunken perverted Harry.  
"Course I didn't toss Remus' too. I have it on good authority that the werewolf blood will give him god like stamina, if you know what I mean," he winked. "You know, in the bedroom . . . with witches . . . wink wink . . . I'm talking about sex."  
"Yes, Mr. Black, that's quite apparent," Minerva sighed.  
"And the veela blood will make him irresistible to them and the . . ."  
Could also be an excuse to write super powered Harry.


	3. Chapter 3: Feasts and Sirius Vowing

Chapter 3: Feasts and Sirius Vowing

Disclaimer: I own nothing. No money is being made from this.

 **0-0-0**

 _ **Downstream 1976**_

"Hey Neville," Sirius greeted his fellow 6th year, sitting down on a chair in the common room.

"Yo, doofus," Neville returned with a smile. "'Sup?"

"The others elected me to check your story out. Not that we think you are lying, you understand, but to tell you the truth, Lily thinks you have been smoking some wacky weed, whatever that is."

"She wouldn't tell you what it really is in case you decided to find some yourself and try it out?"

"Yes," Sirius groused.

"Gotcha," Neville closed his book and looked at his fellow student intensely. "So how do you want to do this?"

"I was thinking of an oath to tell me the truth," Sirius hedged, unsure if his fellow Gryffindor would support that idea or not.

"Sure," Neville answered immediately. "No sweat. Let's head to our dorm so the rest of the students don't hear what we say."

"Sounds good."

The two were soon in a now-empty 6th year dorm room. Sirius closed the door and erected a few privacy charms. Neville added a few more privacy spells on top of Sirius' work.

"I don't recognize those," Sirius indicated.

"Made them myself. It's not enough to tell people _not_ to listen in to private discussions, you have to give them a reason not to do so. Those hexes will make it painfully obvious that I prefer to keep what I say private."

"Nice," Sirius complemented. "Okay. Oath time. You know how to do it, right?"

"It's not my first dragon wrangling, Sirius," Neville said as he pulled his wand out. He held the wand tightly in both hands, closed his eyes to concentrate on the oath, and after 20 seconds, stated in strong voice, "I promise to tell Sirius Black the truth as I know it relating to any questions he has for the next 20 minutes, or will forfeit my reading and viewing porn privileges in the boy's bathroom stall for the next three days. So I say, so FUCK YOU!" The last words were spoken with power and a flash of light illuminated the room for a moment.

Sirius was of two minds from what he saw. Was that a real oath, one part of his mind wondered. And then there was: now _that_ was an oath!

"I thought you had to use the words 'So Mote It Be' at the conclusion of every oath for it to take effect," Sirius wondered aloud.

"A common misconception," Neville clarified with a smirk. "Your godson and I talked about it during our second year. It was a fun way to poke Ron in the eye since he was a dick."

"Why was he a dick?"

"Because all he ever wanted to do was play chess while complaining about those oh-so-evil slimy snakes. You know, Slytherins. Sheesh."

"He played chess? For fun? When there was porn in the bathroom? He does sound like a dick," Sirius agreed, completely missing the more pressing matters that made Ron a dick.

"No kidding," Neville returned with a smile. "Harry and I sat up one night discussing oaths and figured that oaths must have been around a lot longer than the English language, so the closing words must have been different then as well. We figured that it was not the words that conveyed the power of the oath itself, but the sincerity of the words used. It is all intent-based."

"So," Sirius thought aloud, "I could make an oath and use the words, 'Piss Off', and as long as it was sincere on my part it would take?"

"Yep. You could use those words, or also 'Eat Shit and Die, You Fucker!' Or even use the phrase, 'I Like Bubblegum' and it would work. You just need to be sincere in your declaration."

"Nice."

"C'mon, Sirius. Give it a shot."

"I don't need… you know what. What the hell. I'll do it." Sirius stood at attention, his hands grasping his wand tightly for a few seconds as he concentrated on what to say. Moments later he said in a loud voice, "I promise to ask pertinent questions of Neville for the next 20 minutes, or will forfeit Severus Snape's ability to hold his mouth closed when he eats food for the next three days. So I say, SO SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS, SNIVELLOUS!"

"Nice inflection," Neville gave Sirius a thumbs-up sign.

 **0-0-0**

On the opposite side of the castle from where Neville and Sirius were, hidden in an alcove, behind some tasteful dark shadows, one Severus Snape looked up from his book. His eyes went wide, and he strained with all his senses to find out what had just happened.

"What is it, Snape?" a fellow Slytherin queried.

"Something just happened. I don't know what yet."

 **0-0-0**

"So… your oath was to hurt Snivvy and not you?"

"Sure," Sirius grinned. "Why should I lose something if I fail on it? Better Snapey lose something."

"You know, I hadn't thought of it that way. I like the way you think, Sirius."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. But better keep this on the down low as you don't want him to get wise to it. Or anyone else get wise to this. Clock's ticking. What do you want to know?"

Sirius planned to grill Neville for the next hour on the future Harry Potter's life, and how Neville was part of it. Sirius even initially asked Neville a couple of point-blank 'Yes/No' questions relating to Sirius and this other Harry's life, and once he had those answers, he had Neville try to access the hidden pouch of porn in the boy's bathroom. Neville could. He was speaking the straight truth.

That was as far as Sirius stayed on track, for as soon as Neville opened the issue of 'Best of Bouncing Boobs' – Sirius got lost as the pictures moved. Absently he began asking Neville non-pertinent questions. Sirius didn't notice. Neville did. And that night, at dinner, they both watched as Snape could not keep his mouth closed as he ate. Members of his house were not pleased at this lack of manners. Oh no, they were not. Especially since chocolate pudding was served for pudding.

 **0-0-0**

 _ **Upstream 1991**_

Harry Potter was in the Great Hall on September 1st. He sat on a stool and one of the professors had put an old, ratty, hat on his head in an effort to sort him. He wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but he had seen other kids before him get the same hat put on their heads and then the hat shouted out the house they would go to.

 _Interesting_ , thought the hat aloud.

 _What's interesting_? Thought Harry, not aloud.

 _Your life; that is what is interesting. For you see, I knew your father._

 _You did? When he was sorted like me?_

 _I sorted him, yes. But I also met him later in life, after he graduated. Would you like to see that story?_

 _Sure! But don't you mean_ hear _the story? I mean, you're just going to tell me, right?_

 _Oh, no. I can see your memories, so it is only fair that you can see mine._

The mental landscape changed of just seeing the inside of Harry's eyelids, and suddenly Harry was in a large office. A red bird was resting nearby. It didn't look in great shape, and Harry thought it would probably die soon.

A commotion from a window alerted him to something. Two men had broken in. They were tall men, wearing pig-like masks of some sort. Harry was not sure what the masks were to represent as the pig-snout had a horn growing out of it, or who these men were, but they had wands and made their way over to him. Did they mean to kidnap him, he wondered, looking to move out of their way.

They picked him up, or rather, Harry's perception modified a bit and he realized that the two men had picked up the hat he was seeing the memories through.

"You got the item?" one of them asked the other.

"Yeah," the second replied, putting a vial on his head. The hat covered the head and the vial a moment later.

"When will it activate?"

"As soon as Harry wants it to. All he has to do is say the word: Activate."

"Ha! I wish I could see his face when he does that. Just think, saying the word activate will make the hat announce his house as: Headmaster!"

"And it will have an added bonus that the hat will stretch the word _head_. Let him have some fun figuring that out," the second man chucked.

"Not to mention the rebuttal to the Headmaster's likely response to the hat's declaration. I can just see Albus saying, 'Do you mean to say that I'm supposed to mentor him?' At which point the rebuttal spell kicks in and the hat will reply: 'I mean to say that he's the new Headmaster of Hogwarts, now get out of his seat, chump.'"

The two men laughed.

"You know, Sirius, that joke never gets old," the man who had put the hat on his head said.

"Thought you'd like it, James. But I added another one in."

"What does it do?"

"Get this. Once Dumbledore gets rid of the first response, a second conditional response kicks in. The Headmaster will put the hat back on Harry. The hat will shout out: 'Fine, be that way. 'Pimp Lord House!' Minerva will then demand to know that hat means. Don't give me that look, James. You know she'll do it. Anyway, the hat will then shout out that all the chicks belong to him."

James cocked his head a little to the left and thought about that joke. "Funny. A bit mean here and there, but overall, I give it a solid 8 for effort and execution."

"An 8? What the hell? This is for Harry we're talking about!"

DING!

"Crap," James looked at his blinking belt buckle. "Albus is on his way back to the castle. Let's get out of here."

The scene ended and Harry's gaze again saw the inside of his eyelids.

 _They slapped some spells on you years ago to make my sorting more interesting?_

 _They did,_ the hat confirmed. _I can still say 'Headmaster' if you like,_ the Hat informed him. _It would be a funny joke, but one the Headmaster will immediately overturn._

 _What about Pimp Lord?_ Harry mentally inquired.

 _You are missing the hat and the feather that goes along with it, so I doubt it would do you much good at this time in your life._

 _What about the third item?_

 _What third item?_

 _You know, the one they said to activate._

 _What activate?_

"The one that activates when I say activate," Harry said out loud in a slightly frustrated, but still hushed voice.

The change was instantaneous.

"Bwahahahahaha," the Sorting Hat began laughing maniacally. "Awesome House with an Awesome Harem!" the Hat shouted to the amazement of the rest of the Great Hall.

"Blast!" Albus said out loud, in a voice that was truly loud. "I thought I had removed those mischievous enchantments."

"Can I be in his house?" a 2nd year Slytherin asked earnestly. She really did hate being in Slytherin. They never wanted to have any fun. Unless it involved hair care.

"Me too?" inquired a 4th year Ravenclaw who was seriously annoyed at the rest of the girls in her year hogging all the bathroom time.

 **0-0-0**

"Hey, Neville," Harry greeted, sitting at the Gryffindor table until the mess with the hat was taken care of. Harry was not the only one to think it odd that several girls from other houses wanted to be shorted into the Awesome House with an Awesome Harem.

"Harry," Neville greeted back. "Um, what was that?"

"The sorting?"

"Yeah."

"Just the usual weirdness in my life."

"Just so you know, I don't want to be in your harem."

"You sure?" Harry's eyes fluttered at the other first year. "You could be my bitc…"

"Quiet, you two!" hissed a red-head prefect that was otherwise being ignored by almost everyone else. "The rest of the sorting is still going on."

Harry and Neville shared a grin at one another and stayed silent.

The sorting finished, students sat at the houses they were in, dinner was served, conversations began, and new friendships made. The Great Hall was loud with students talking, usually trying to be louder than their friends. Because, let's face it, kids plus sugar plus late at night equals lack of sleep on their part, especially for the hyper kids using magic (typically in the badger's den). Hundreds of miles away, parents of those first years entering knew what their children were going through right then. They knew the kids would be hopped up on refined sugar. A collective thought for them was: let the staff deal with it as this was the first time in years they were going to get a good night's sleep.

Dinner finished, pudding was next up. Harry and Neville both noticed that the professors at the head table kept moving the chocolate pudding dishes away from the dour potions professor, who in turn kept summoning them back with his wand until the Headmaster summoned said professor's wand. Scowl in place, the Potions professor instead took a lemon bar and ate it, his chewing ability on display for all to see.

"Is he always like that?" Harry asked the red-headed prefect.

"Hmm? Oh, Professor Snape? Yes, unfortunately. For some reason, he just cannot keep his mouth closed whenever he eats pudding."

"Weird," Neville supplied.

"Indeed. I've heard that curse breakers were brought in, but no one can find out why it is happening."

 **0-0-0**

 _ **Downstream 1976**_

"If I may have everyone's attention?" the Headmaster announced that mid-November Saturday evening as the evening meal concluded. The students quieted down. "Thank you. As you know, a missing student was found earlier today. Mr. Wharami, please do not hesitate to ask any of the staff for assistance as you readjust. And as it has been five years since your last beginning of year announcements, I will remind you and everyone here that the Forbidden Forest is still forbidden. All items relating to those prank items that can be used in a malicious manner can be found on Mr. Filch's office door..."

Neville stood up, a confused look on his face. "Excuse me. But, what defines if a prank item is malicious?"

"Ah," the Headmaster nodded, as if understanding the question. "It primarily depends on if it hurts someone, you see."

"What if someone pulls a _really_ funny prank using something on that list that, you know, kind of feeds someone to a werewolf?"

"That would, of course, be malicious," Dumbledore sniffed. "The Ministry would insist on putting the poor creature down. So please don't do that."

"What if we used a werewolf golem? One that looks and acts like a werewolf, but it's not actually one."

"Ah." Dumbledore laughed at the thought. "Since there isn't a chance that an actual werewolf would be harmed, that would indeed be just fine."

"And if they were accidentally killed by the golem?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Accidents happen. And since all that would happen after that is a golem being destroyed, I don't see a problem with that at all."

 **0-0-0**

 _ **Upstream 1991**_

"…can be found on Mr. Filch's office door."

"Excuse me!" Harry Potter stood and raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" the Headmaster returned.

"Just a point of clarification, Headmaster. What defines if a prank item is malicious?"

"Ah," the Headmaster nodded, as if understanding the question. "It primarily depends on if it hurts someone, you see."

"What if someone pulls a _really_ funny prank using something on that list that, you know, kind of feeds someone to a werewolf?"

Unknown to Harry Potter, Professor Snape's eyes widened, and a small amount of pee escaped.

"That would, of course, be malicious," Dumbledore sniffed. "The Ministry would insist on putting the poor creature down. So please don't do that." As soon as Albus said that, he felt a sense of déjà vu, even though he couldn't think of the reason why.

"What if we used a kind of fake werewolf? One that looks and acts like a werewolf, but it's not actually one."

"Ah." Dumbledore laughed at the thought. "Since there isn't a chance that an actual werewolf would be harmed, that would indeed be just fine."

"And if they were accidentally killed by the fake werewolf?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Accidents happen. And since all that would happen after that is a fake werewolf being destroyed, I don't see a problem with that at all."

Unbeknownst to both members of that conversation, more pee dribbled out of a certain Potions Professor's robes as a sudden feeling of doom settled over the man.

 **0-0-0**

 _ **Downstream 1976**_

Neville took his seat at the table to finish his pudding.

"Hey, Neville," James prompted. "What was Harry's first sorting like? Did anything memorable happen?"

Neville cocked his head for a second as he thought. "Uh, not really. Maybe asked the Headmaster a few questions to clarify some rules in the castle."

 **0-0-0**

 **Author's Notes:**

Yeah, things are starting to get weird. Next chapter is even weirder. I will freely admit that I love time travel stories. The biggest complaint I have with those kinds of stories are the lack of _non_ -linear chapters. Reading time travel stories seems to always show linear progression, no matter what. The only movie I have ever seen that showed in a non-linear fashion was Cloud Atlas.

I hope everyone is enjoying this story. I have several more crack-fics in the works. And will begin posting them soon.

 **This chapter based off the following:**

 _Original Rorschach's Blot Idea #584_. Using something aside from 'so mote it be' in an oath. 'So swear I,' 'so I swear,' 'so I do affirm,' 'if you don't like it then you can eat my ass, bitches.' Anything but 'so mote it be.' I am so frigging sick of reading the words 'so mote it be' so frigging sick of it.

 _Original Rorschach's Blot Idea #27_. James and company slap a couple enchantments on the hat to make Harry's sorting more interesting.  
"Bwahahahahaha," the Sorting Hat began laughing maniacally. "Awesome House with an Awesome Harem."  
or  
"HEADMASTER!" The Hat shouted.  
"Do you mean to say that I'm supposed to mentor him?" Dumbledore asked, looking pleased by the notion.  
"I mean to say that he's the new Headmaster of Hogwarts, not get out of his seat, chump," the Hat replied.  
or even  
"Pimp lord!" The Hat screamed.  
"What exactly does that mean?" Minerva demanded.  
"All your bitches belong to him!" the Hat bellowed.

 _Original Rorschach's Blot Idea #588_. Someone asks Dumbledore about what sort of pranks would be reasonable  
"What about feeding someone to a werewolf?"  
"Of course not," Dumbledore sniffed. "The Ministry would insist on putting the poor creature down."  
"What if we used a werewolf golem? It looks and acts like a werewolf, but it's not actually one."  
"Ah." Dumbledore laughed at the thought. "Since there isn't a chance that an actual werewolf would be harmed, that would indeed be just fine."  
"And if they were accidentally killed by the golem?"  
Dumbledore shrugged. "Accidents happen."  
Out of scene, Snape shits himself in fear as a sudden feeling of doom settles over him.


End file.
